Why the Change of Mind (More a Change of Heart)

It's a Rumor, a Legend, a Mystery

"Your brother," Bellamy said dumbly.

"Clarke Griffin didn't have a brother," Miller hissed beside him, not quite quiet enough to keep Clair from overhearing.

She sighed and dropped the hand she'd put half around Bellamy. "He's not my blood brother," she said, "but he'll protect me like one. Speaking of which...." She sent a withering look to Lincoln, who was still focused on Bellamy. "I told you already, put that away."

"I won't shoot if he steps away and leaves you alone," Lincoln replied, low and demanding.

"Under other circumstances, I wouldn't be opposed, but I need him for something." Clair sighed. "Look, he didn't kidnap me or anything, Lincoln, it's okay. Can you please just let me explain? Without shooting my companions?"

Clair felt Bellamy's gaze slide over to her at the word companions and tensed a little. She hadn't meant it like that, like they were a group now; she'd just been trying to ease Lincoln's mind. It was too late to take back now, though, so she offered Bellamy only a glance in return.

Lincoln shifted his gaze back to Bellamy and glared at him harshly, as if he were trying to see through his very soul. Bellamy stared back defiantly, and after a long moment Lincoln caved. "Fine," he growled, lowering his weapon and stepping forward, though she noticed his fingers were still itching over the string like he was ready to lift it again.

"Away, Lincoln. I don't want you killing anyone, especially when you're technically over boundary lines."

"So are you," Lincoln grumbled, but slung the bow over his back nonetheless. "All right, explain."

"First things first—introductions. This is Miller, and this is Bellamy. They're from Skaikru, obviously."

"Obviously," Lincoln said, skirting his eyes over the two of them again, but with less distaste this time. "How'd you end up with them anyway?"

"By accident, at first, but now...well, it's sort of a long story."

Lincoln crossed his arms. "I've got time."

Bellamy explained the situation again, including the story of the lost princess since Lincoln wasn't very familiar with it; he was oddly careful to be precise about all the details, adding where he'd heard this or that as if it was helpful to the situation. She sort of wanted to tell him to hurry up, but forced herself to be quiet until he finished.

Lincoln turned directly to her. "So?"

Clair gave him a look. "So, what?"

"Do you believe them?"

Clair swallowed hard, remembering the lump in her stomach as they walked through the same path a two-year-old girl had once taken, like there was a flood of memories waiting to burst out of her. Part of her wasn't sure she wanted them to, but most of her was too desperate and curious to resist. "Yes. Or, at least, it's a possibility." Lincoln started to say something, probably wanting to argue, but she cut in. "You don't know where I came from, right? You always talk about family, and I could find mine, Lincoln. The one I lost."

He hesitated before letting out a resigned sigh. "Fine. But I'm coming with you."

It was Miller who voiced her thoughts. "What?"

"If you're going on some journey to find your maybe-mother in Skaikru territory, so am I. You don't get to find one family and leave the other behind."